Halfway
by CCS AnGeL00
Summary: [Satan's POV] Sometimes the only way to move on is to give in. Two men do the impossible: agree. Sort of.


**Halfway**

You should hate me with ever fiber of your being.

You should wish on every birthday candle that I get hit by an ice cream truck going 120 mph, which backs up over me, and then runs over me again.

You should wish on every falling star someone poisons my food, then shoots me, drowns me, and finally hangs me.

You should wish on every broken wishbone that I die some horrible, bloody, gruesome death at your hands.

But you don't.

I took away what you sacrificed everything for. I took away what your father lost his life for. I took away what your friends poured their sweat, blood, and tears into.

It's not in your nature to hate, which I suppose makes her love you even more.

"Of course I don't hate you, Mr. S," you reply cheerfully, when I say this out loud to you. Everyone has gathered at Capsule Corp. for a summer barbeque. "Don't be silly."

"But--"

"I personally couldn't handle all the fame from the Cell Games. I wanted to forget about them for awhile," you admit. "I should actually thank you."

Turning it around like I did you a favor. You're something else.

I take a pull from my cigar and sip my wine. "You really love her, don't you?" 

The simple question brings color to your cheeks. "Well, sir, I—I do." Your gaze subconsciously lands on said daughter, who laughs with your mother and Bulma at the table across from us. "It's not easy, though."

I snort. "Tell me about it, kid."

"She's stubborn, hardheaded, prideful, pushy, arrogant, crude, and demanding. But she's intelligent, fair and always does the right thing. She doesn't hesitate to go for what she wants, even if her methods are sometimes… um… how to put this…"

I grin into my wine. "I heard about the blackmail. She's pretty damn crafty, isn't she? Try telling her she _can't_ do something. She'll do everything in her power to prove you wrong."

"She also has a kind and gentle side she doesn't like to show. She's easily hurt and has a need to prove herself," you push your glasses up your nose. "She's also a bit of a tomboy. But that's not why it's hard to love her, sir."

I raise my eyebrow. Just where are you going with this?

"I don't deserve her. I'm the one who needs to prove myself to her. I'll never be good enough for her. I just want to make her happy and I feel like… I can't, no matter how hard I try," you say morosely, your eyebrows dipping into a frown. 

I nod and finish off my wine in one gulp. "That's right boy, you don't deserve her and you will never make her happy," your face falls. "But you must never stop trying to make her happy. Promise me," I demand

"I promise," your voice is soft. 

"And that means everyday for the rest of your life and even after then." We grin at the inside joke. "Even the days she has PMS."

You try to hide your wince, but I see it. Trust me boy, you have NO idea what you're getting into. 

We stare at the women talking for awhile longer in silence, before I clear my throat. "I lost my wife about ten years ago, as you know. I'm sure you know that when you lose someone you love, you try to hold onto the things that they gave you."

"I do know," your gaze falls on your brother, who is climbing all over your father.

"So then you understand how precious Videl is to me. And what I'm about to say won't come as a surprise to you."

You blink. "What is it, sir?"

"If I ever find out that you've hurt my daughter in any way, physically or mentally, I will kill you," my voice is hard and I leave no room for argument. "And I'll find a way. Make no mistake."

"I would never—"

"Do I make myself clear, boy?"

"Crystal," you nod repeatedly. Good. I always knew you were a smart boy. "So, since we've both established that we love Videl… I think we should meet halfway."

I pour myself more wine. "What do you mean?"

"You don't have to love me or even like me that much, although I would like to get along with you," you explain quickly. "But since um… how do I explain this…?"

Videl walks toward us, a pained expression on her face. "You two are playing nicely, aren't you?"

I give her a huge smile. "Of course we are, sweet pea. Goober and I have even called a truce."

She looks suspicious. "Is that true, Gohan?"

You nod. She sure has you on a short leash. Boy, how I missed the days of my wife ordering me around and I, ever one to please, running to do things like my ass was on fire. "In fact," I say putting an arm around my daughter. "We've decided to compromise and meet halfway from now on."

Her blue eyes sparkle up at me. Good. She's happy. I'm happy. She soon drags you away to go see your mother about something and I sit back and close my eyes.

Halfway.

Who knows what could happen in the future?

I may be calling you son…

I take the whole bottle of wine and start chugging.

… God help me.


End file.
